Leisure, Entertainment, and the Manyo
In this section, we introduce a new type of song, which is also a product of the colonial era and a highly characteristic genre of the period. It is called manyo, a collective term for humorous songs. Its origins trace back to manzai (漫才), which arrived with the Japanese presence; its Korean adaptation became mandam, acquiring a distinct, bittersweet Joseon flavor within the colonial context. It represented an entertainment form akin to the early 20th-century cabarets, featuring sketches that lampooned the oddities of everyday life or political absurdities. These were typically double acts where two actors bantered, using wordplay as the cleverer character poked fun at the foolish one — who, somehow, still possessed a sharp wit. In this sense, mandam performers can easily be seen as distant relatives of classic American comedy duos like Abbott and Costello. Due to the witty framing of their topics, mandam also bears a slight resemblance to modern stand-up comedy.
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Danseongsa Theater, Jongno, Seoul (Public Domain) |
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Meiji-za, a movie theater during the Japanese colonial period (Public
Domain)
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| The Nakrangpara tearoom, which also served as a literary and artistic salon (Public Domain) |
Western behavioral patterns emerged; a melodramatic relationship could suddenly seem "vulgar," and women’s light clothing revealed their figures with an unfamiliar "shamelessness." At an art exhibition, visitors were shocked by a female nude sculpture and destroyed it in a rage—yet they soon encountered nude women in advertisements.
Everywhere they looked, they saw novelty: public telephones, radio, streetcars, traffic lights, chewing gum, briquettes, and the list goes on. The encounter with these things, and the often fashionable but not yet natural behavioral patterns adopted to match them, provided a constant source of humor for the Manyo.
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Top left:
Medicine advertisement, 1927 Top right: Morinaga Milk Chocolate advertisement, 1931 Bottom: Lion Toothpowder advertisement, 1931 (Public Domain) |
However, the Japanese administration was not motivated by altruism when it spoke of "educating the people." Everything was permitted—as long as they allowed it. Censorship dominated the entertainment industry, weighing every word, and herding the public into entertainment venues served as a means of surveillance. These operations were strictly controlled under the "Entertainment Control Regulations." This seemingly relaxed world of leisure was also permeated by the traditional rules of social structure, enforcing hierarchies based on ethnicity, social class, and rank. Furthermore, there was blatant discrimination against the native population; only a fraction of Koreans could set foot in elite Western or Japanese restaurants and department stores.
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| An illustration from the February 1927 issue of Byeolgeongon magazine, which frequently published stories about modern boys and girls during the Japanese colonial period (Public Domain) |
Kim Jeong-gu (1916-1998) és Jang Se-jeong (1921-2003)
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| Kim Jeong-gu and Jang Se-jeong (Public Domain) |
백만원이 생긴다면
Park Hyang-rim (1921-1946)
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| Park Hyang-rim (Public Domain) |
The song "Oppa Is a Troublemaker" was composed by Kim Hae-song (under the name Kim Song-gyu) with lyrics by Park Yeong-ho.
Oppa Is a Troublemaker
According to its widespread English translation: Oppa Is a Playboy. While to the modern ear, the combination of oppa and punggakjaengi might sound like a comical song about a ‘playboy’ boyfriend, the context of the lyrics — revolving around petty dinner-table food fights, him secretly reading her personal letters, and dodging everyday chores — reveals that this is actually a classic, biological sibling rivalry. In this 1938 context, oppa strictly means an older brother, and punggakjaengi is best understood not as a playboy, but as a ‘good-for-nothing troublemaker’ or a ‘lazy brother’ who loafs around. The use of the term 'oppa' to refer to a romantic partner or an idol one admires only began to spread in the 1990s.
Also in 1938, Park Hyang-rim recorded a duet with composer Kim Hae-song. Both the composer and lyricist of this quintessential cabaret song were Kim Hae-song (under the name Kim Song-gyu). The song hides multiple sources of humor: the flirting yet bickering conversation between the man and woman, the lyrics about the technical difficulties of early telephony, and the chaos of mixed language. Beside their mother tongue, the speakers use Japanese (the official language of the colonizers) and English expressions, which were considered very "cool" at the time.
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| Park Hyang-rim and Kim Hae-song (Public Domain) |
Honkyoku 2788-ban yo [Japanese: Central, give me number 2788!]
Hello, hello, is this Miss Jeong-hee?
(Woman): Oh boy, I don’t know, bye bye. [English]
(Man): Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay... wai-wai-wai-wait...
Don’t, don’t hang up! Wai-wai-wai... wait a bit!
[Korean onomatopoeia: 아차차차차, followed by Japanese: Chotto matte! "Wait a second!"] (Together): If you hung up, I wouldn't like not knowing [where we stand].
Kim Jeong-gu (1916-1998)
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| Kim Jeong-gu (Public Domain) |
Kim Jeong-gu’s biography was featured in Part 5, where we heard him as the performer of Tearful Duman River. Now we evoke more of his songs, as he was one of the most popular performers of manyo. First is a naive love story: "Merchant Wang’s Love Letter", with music by Park Si-chun and lyrics by Kim Jin-mun (1938).
Now follows a song by Kim Jeong-gu from a year later, featuring a peculiar
word in its title:
yojigyeong (요지경 /
妖地境). This refers to an optical device known in the West as a raree box
or a peep show, in which various stereoscopic—and through rotation, even
moving—images could be viewed through a magnifying lens. The device was
used as a fairground attraction, often accompanied by storytelling. The
word itself can be translated as a "strange, peculiar world," meaning the
title of the song is
The World is a Yojigyeong/A Strange, Peculiar Place. I could perhaps translate it as a "magic box," but since it refers to a
specific device that goes by another name, even that would be misleading.
Therefore, it remains
yojigyeong. However,
those who are interested can watch an fascinating video about the
mechanism and crafting of this visually impressive device here: Raree Boxes
The song was released in 1939, with music and arrangement by
Park Si-chun, and lyrics by Jo Myeong-am.
세상(世上)은 요지경(妖地境)
요지경(妖地境) 속이다, 요지경 속이다
요지 요지 요지경 속이다
생글 생글 생글 생글 아가씨 세상
벙글 벙글 벙글 벙글 도련님 세상
얘 얘 얘들아, 내 말 좀 듣거라
얼굴이 잘나면 잘나서 살고
못난 사람은 제멋에 산다
얼싸 음마 둥개 둥개, 아무렴 그렇지, 둥개 둥개
이 세상은 싸구려 판이다
찰랑 찰랑 찰랑 찰랑 막걸리 술잔
지글 지글 지글 지글 매운탕 안주
얘 얘 얘들아, 내 말 좀 듣거라
곱빼기 한 잔에 웃음이 가득
삼팔(三八) 수건(手巾)에 추파(秋波)가 온다
얼싸 음마 둥개 둥개, 아무렴 그렇지, 둥개 둥개
이 세상은 물방아 속이다
둥글 둥글 둥글 둥글 뜨내기 세상
생글 생글 생글 생글 숫배기 사랑
얘 얘 얘들아, 내 말 좀 듣거라
홀애비 사정(事情)은 과부(寡婦)가 알고
처녀(處女) 사정은 총각(總角)이 안다
얼싸 음마 둥개 둥개, 아무렴 그렇지, 둥개 둥개
yoji, yoji, yojigyeong is this world.
A world of smiling-smiling-smiling young ladies,
A world of grinning-grinning-grinning young men.
Hey, hey, kids, listen to me for a second:
The beautiful live by their beauty,
The ugly live for their own pleasure.
Good heavens, Mother, round and round—of course, that's right, round and round!
This world is surely a bargain market!
Clink-clink, clink-clink go the makgeolli wine glasses,
Sizzle-sizzle-sizzle goes the spicy soup side-dish.
Hey, hey, kids, listen to me for a second:
A double-sized cup is full of laughter,
A flirtatious glance comes from behind a "38-silk" handkerchief.
Good heavens, Mother, round and round—of course, that's right, round and round!
- Manyo (漫謠): A satirical, humorous couplet or cabaret-style song that emerged in the 1930s. It is characterized by lighthearted, witty lyrics and a playful tone.
- Yojigyeong (妖地境): Based on the original characters, it means a "strange, peculiar world." It is actually a corrupted form of the word 瑤池鏡 (yojigyeong).
- 瑤池鏡: A small device or toy through which one could view various rotating images through a magnifying glass. Metaphorically, it refers to the tangled, strange affairs of the world.
- Doryeong-nim (도련님): 1) A respectful form of "doryeong"; 2) Used to refer to a husband's younger, unmarried brother.
- Jal-namyeon / Monnan (잘나면 / 못난): These terms refer not only to being handsome or ugly in terms of facial features but can also mean being talented or clumsy/incompetent.
- Eol-ssa (얼싸): An exclamation used in joyful situations, or sometimes a sarcastic "Well, look at that!"
- Eumma (음마): "Eumma," meaning "Oh, Mother!"—an exclamation of surprise typically used by women.
- Dunggae-dunggae (둥개둥개): A rhythmic onomatopoeia, originally a sound accompanying the rocking or patting of a baby.
- Ssaguryeo-pan (싸구려판): A "bargain market"; literally a market where defective or discounted goods are sold.
- Gopppaegi (곱빼기): A double portion (of food or drink), or something that happens twice in a row.
- Sampal (三八): An abbreviation for a fine silk fabric manufactured in China. "Sampal sugeon" is a handkerchief made from this silk.
- Chupa (秋波): 1) Autumn water ripples; 2) A flirtatious, coquettish glance; 3) A flattering gesture.
- Tteunaegi (뜨내기): A wanderer or a person without a permanent residence.
- Sutbaegi (숫배기): A naive, inexperienced youth—especially a maiden or a bachelor.
- Horaebi / Gwabu (홀애비 / 과부): A widower and a widow.
The next song by Kim Jeong-gu gives voice to a young man wishing to marry, but there is more packed into this song than just that: it presents an idealized image of rural life, where a girl’s primary appeal—besides her beauty—lies in her hardworking, family-centered virtues. The song "A Bachelor’s Petition" (Chonggak Jinjeongseo) was released in 1938, composed by Park Si-chun with lyrics by Jo Myeong-am.
총각 진정서
(Literal translation)
Big Sister, Big Sister, let me get married,
Crows are cawing, magpies are chirping, pumpkin flowers are blooming in my hometown.
There is a beautiful and pure-hearted girl there, she’s the one I love.
She’s skilled at making cucumber kimchee and radish kimchee,
A girl who would raise children diligently and frugally,
Big Sister, Big Sister, let me get married,
Hm~ hm~ hm~ I’m definitely going to marry her.
Big Sister, Big Sister, let me get married,
Crickets are chirping, wild chrysanthemums are blooming in my hometown.
There is a sweet little girl there, like a cherry, she’s the one I love.
She picks mulberry leaves, raises silkworms, and is good at weaving,
A girl who works meticulously and patiently,
Big Sister, Big Sister, let me get married,
Hm~ hm~ hm~ I’m definitely going to marry her.
Big Sister, Big Sister, let me get married,
Cicadas are singing, peonies are blooming in my hometown.
There is a well-to-do and clever girl there, she’s the one I love.
She sews, she washes, she is gentle and kind,
A well-rounded, reliable girl,
Big Sister, Big Sister, let me get married,
Hm~ hm~ hm~ I’m definitely going to marry her.
The trees have just bloomed in Changgyeongwon Garden.
Old and young, crowding and bustling,
Hey, how wonderful, hm~ it’s the season of flowers, hey-hey!
A silk ribbon in the maiden’s hair,
The lad in a vest, a rayon vest.
Push and pull, grab and release,
Swaying gently, hm~ this too is a flower,
A flower that melts a thousand hearts!
The trees have just bloomed in Changgyeongwon Garden.
Dazed butterflies, fluttering and dancing,
Hey, how wonderful, hm~ it’s the season of flowers, hey-hey!
The old man’s topknot has slipped sideways,
The wife’s shoes have run away.
Just look at the old man and his missus!
Hey-ho, hm~ this too is a flower, A smiling, laughing flower!
The trees have just bloomed in Changgyeongwon Garden.
Friends from the zoo are buzzing and rumbling,
Hey, how wonderful, hm~ it’s the season of flowers, hey-hey!
The gentleman’s hat is crushed,
The lady’s skirt is torn all the way.
Just look at how they march!
Chundangjeong Pavilion, hm~ this too is a flower,
Hey, look, everything in Changgyeongwon is a flower!
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| Kim Yong-hwan (Public Domain) |
Despite this, certain things happened to him that fit strangely into his life's work, which will be discussed in the chapter about the war period.
During the World War in 1944, Kim organized the Pacific Performing Arts Corps, which operated as far as Manchuria. Immediately after the war, he wrote the first "liberation song." I can find no information regarding the cause of his early death. As he also created masterful songs in the manyo genre, I will cite a few of his hits here, all released on record in 1939.
In "Drunken Mr. Jin," Kim showcases not only his composing skills (writing both music and lyrics) but also his virtuosity as a performer. The lyrics are almost untranslatable, as the Japanese and Korean languages become completely jumbled in the intoxication of drunkenness. This satirical cabaret song mocks drunkenness, the Chinese merchant, and the Japanese linguistic presence in Joseon all at once. The comical distortion of Japanese words provoked laughter while also serving as a gesture of "resistance" during the colonial era.
술 취한 진서방
Drunken Mr. Jin
(Literal translation)
Ay-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay!
That Chinese man (짱궤) – hontoni (really) kawaisoyaru (pitiful)!
Just chewing pumpkin seeds, his teeth have all fallen out,
he can't even eat hoddeok.
Eh, this is hontoni (really) komaru hanashi da (a troublesome case).
But gosake wa (as for the alcohol), it slides down well even without teeth, yoku nonderu (he drinks it well)!
Drunk on three geun of liquor, he just spins and spins, mawaru mawaru (spins)…*
The whole world is guru guru guru guru mawaru (spinning round and round)!
If he just keeps spinning and spinning—this man will die,
he'll die, die, die, he'll die!
Ay-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay!
That beautiful silk – hontoni (really) kawaisoyaru (pitiful)!
The Korean girl is seduced by the sound of the janggu and gayageum, eating and drinking mindlessly. This too is hontoni komaru hanashi da (a really troublesome case).
She buys the expensive liquor, but if she throws it up, it’s a loss,
yet she keeps coming back.
Her head (atama) is thumping and she gets dizzy—spinning, spinning, mawaru mawaru!
The whole world is guru guru guru guru mawaru!
If she just keeps spinning and spinning—this person will die,
they'll die, die, die, they'll die!
Ay-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay!
That Chinese man (짱궤) – hontoni kawaisoyaru (really pitiful)!
Out of bad habit (kusakede), the money he earned (moketa okane) from the silk trade, he spent it all in Korea.
Eh, this is hontoni komaru hanashi da (a really troublesome case)!
With such good-for-nothing father (otosan) and mother (okasan)
—when will he give them up?
Drunk on three geun of liquor, he just spins and spins, mawaru mawaru!
The whole world is guru guru guru guru mawaru!
If he just keeps spinning and spinning—this man will die,
he'll die, die, die, he'll die!
* Note: The geun (근) is actually a unit of weight no longer in use (approx. 600g), but it was reportedly often used to express the quantity of liquor.
I must add several explanations to the next song, "Protest to My Mother-in-Law," so you don't end up as confused as I was. After the first raw translation, I stood before the text completely baffled; it seemed to make sense only on the surface, but in reality, it had neither head nor tail. Naturally, I couldn't let it rest, and after some searching, I found the explanatory writings of Director Lee Dong-soon, head of the Korea Cultural Center for Popular Music. I will share the part that explains what Kim Yong-hwan is singing about. The song was composed by Kim Yang-chon with lyrics by Kim Seong-jip.
The Explanation:
"A thirty-year-old bachelor is taken into the house of a twelve-year-old girl, 'accepted as a son-in-law'—sold there under this pretext. The family promised that when the girl grew up, they would hold a proper wedding, but this promise is never kept. The bachelor, who fails to recognize the true intentions of the cunning mother-in-law, lives a bitter life hardly better than a servant, while his heart only burns more.
We can find traces of this custom, which survived from the Joseon period until the Japanese occupation, in this song. This was called the Yeseoje (豫壻制) system: among poor peasants, a man intended as a son-in-law was taken in even if they had their own sons. They squeezed free labor out of him for a time, and later he could set up a separate household or move in with the family permanently. However, such a husband was completely economically dependent on the wife's family, so his fate was no different from that of a humiliated servant.
It has been a long time since then. But there were still sons-in-law in the country who, living in the house of a wealthy father-in-law and mother-in-law, were forced to lead a subordinate life without free will. Hoping for the day of their independence, let us now listen to 'Protest to My Mother-in-Law'."
— Director Lee Dong-soon
Thus, it becomes clear that Yeseoje (also known as demari or beonkoji) was essentially a system of a ‘pawned son-in-law’ or ‘son-in-law in service’ — an institution that, interestingly enough, can also be found in the Bible. We can read about a similar practice in the story of Jacob and Laban: the poor peasant lad paid for his future wife through his labor, but due to his vulnerability, greedy future-in-laws would often exploit him indefinitely, never actually giving him their daughter’s hand.
Protest to My Mother-in-Law
(Literal translation)
Mother-in-law, Mother-in-law,
At thirty years old, the first thing they
showed me was a twelve-year-old girl,
Even ghosts couldn't understand
my burning bachelor soul.
When will the day come when she grows up, we
bake rice cakes, boil noodles, and finally have a wedding?
Mother-in-law,
why do you do this? Mother-in-law, how can you?
I am so, so, so sad
that I can't live like this... oh, I can't live!
Mother-in-law, Mother-in-law,
They said being a 'live-in son-in-law'
would be so good, and in my ignorance, I fell for it.
Even the heavens
do not understand the bitter heart of the day laborer.
When will the
day come when she grows up, I put on the ceremonial hat and belt, and we can
hold the wedding?
Mother-in-law, why do you do this? Mother-in-law, how
can you?
I am consumed by such, such, such sorrow that I can't live
like this... oh, I can't live!
Mother-in-law, Mother-in-law,
My fingernails and nail beds are worn out
from so much work, working without pay,
Am I just to wait for the girl
to grow up and grow old here with you in the meantime?
When will the
day come when she paints her face, puts on the bridal dots, and finally the
wedding happens?
Mother-in-law, why do you do this? Mother-in-law, how
can you?
I am so, so, so angry that I can't live like this... oh, I
can't live!
Finally, we come to the last song of our post, which, fittingly for Kim Yong-hwan, is no ordinary piece. He is both the composer and lyricist, and through his performance, he vibrantly brings to life the characters we meet in each verse. After the lyrics, Lee Dong-soon again peels back the layers of the song.
낙화유수 호텔
His hair is cropped short, his freckles play in a thousand colors.
In the dim light, under the gas lamp, he tunes his violin.
Step right up! Changbu Taryeong, Noraegarak, or the Kaesong Nanbongga!
Step right up! We have everything here, except what we don't!
Eh... even the tear-jerking, spit-dripping 'Falling Flowers and Flowing Water,' and even 'The Three Comrades'!
Step right up! The price is only ten jeon—just ten jeon, ten jeon!
Cheap, cheap, the songbook itself is cheap,
the songbook is cheap!
Still wears a straw hat in late autumn and walks in a collarless shirt.
From the stage, the 'norangmok' [a forbidden vocal technique in traditional pansori] pierces the darkness.
Snow has been falling since morning,
by evening, huge flakes are pouring down.
Sanderson deceived Anna with a fake marriage,
and Bartlett, the master, has kicked her out,
her life is in ruins. [reference to the characters of the 1935 film 'Way Down East']
Cheap, cheap, the silent film is cheap,
the silent film is cheap!
Gold buttons on his wrinkled uniform, pimples bulging on his face,
carrying his wooden candy tray around his neck through the deserted night streets.
Cheap, cheap, the night caramel! Cheap!
Sorghum caramel, sesame caramel, soy caramel, Kaesong ginseng, Bukcheong black caramel!
Eating it under the covers behind the mother-in-law’s back, they wouldn't notice if one of them died.
Oh, chestnut caramel seasoned with pepper!
Oh, my nighttime caramel
Cheap, cheap, the date caramel is also cheap,
the date caramel is cheap!
"In the first verse, the scene of a night-street bookseller selling songbooks by the light of a carbide lamp on a deep, dark street is drawn as vividly as a painting. The appearance of this young street vendor is characterized by hair cropped short to about 3 cm and a face entirely covered in freckles; his nickname is "the Musician." The lighting is provided by a brightly burning carbide lamp, whose consuming, hissing sound can be heard loudly and clamorously. After playing the violin for a while, the young man sets the instrument down and cries out to himself. He loudly promotes the “Sin-gu-japga” (Miscellaneous Songs New and Old), a songbook priced at a mere ten jeon, yet the passing pedestrians pay him little to no attention. Titles of 1920s silent film theme songs, such as “Nakhwa-yusu” (Falling Flowers, Flowing Waters) and “Se dongmu” (Three Friends), are also visible.
The protagonist of the second verse is an anonymous silent film narrator (byeonjsa) who travels around carrying old silent film reels, using them to stimulate the curiosity of village residents, screening them, and collecting a small admission fee. Shall we take a look at his wretched appearance? Although a cold wind is blowing, this nameless byeonjsa wears a out-of-season straw hat that looks chilly just to behold, and he directly wears a thin, collarless summer dress shirt. In the open-air theater with only a few audience members, the narrator spins his bittersweet tales with a melodic voice, yet with a sense of solitary, lonely resonance, full of audacity and charm. However, throughout the work, this is heard almost as a desperate cry or a sorrowful, harsh, and lamentable timbre.
The protagonist in the third verse is a pitiful working student who wanders through the winding back alleys late at night, selling malt candy (yeot) to self-finance his tuition fees. Though he wears a university student uniform adorned with worn golden buttons, his face is still covered in acne. Carrying the yeot tray slung across his chest, the student cries out by himself. Within that cry, all kinds of yeot varieties that the common people of the time enjoyed as snacks are brought to mind in diverse ways. These items include chestnut yeot, which has a slightly spicy taste enhanced with pepper, sesame yeot, Gaeseong ginseng yeot, Bukcheong black yeot, and sweet jujube yeot. Particularly while describing the chestnut yeot, the working student depicts a scene where a newlywed couple, with their blanket pulled all the way over their heads, affectionately share the candy together, eating secretly with bated breath for fear that the mother-in-law in the main room might notice—a sight that is both comical and smile-inducing.
However, there is no resonance to the cries of the protagonists appearing in each verse. They are all wanderers of the night streets where the cold wind blows. Eventually, as the night deepens, they simultaneously gather and pack up the props they had spread out on the ground, then trudge back to their lodging, which is nothing but a peerlessly cheap inn (yeoinshuk). In this yeoinshuk, where the three—the open-air bookseller called the street musician, the nameless byeonjsa screening silent films, and the working student selling yeot—gather, they retreat separately into the front room, the upper room, and the side room. They have already been long-term residents for several days. Since their business performance is not particularly good, it is burdensome for them to pay even the immediate lodging fee. They worry even about the next day's meal. Yet, in the foreground of the work, their peculiar grassroots optimism can be felt. They do not break down or fall into despair under any desperate crisis, but endure and live through each day like an ox trudging forward silently, looking only straight ahead. Although it is merely a very cheap yeoinshuk, they call their lodging the "Nakhwa-yusu Hotel." While “Nakhwa-yusu” is the title of a silent film, it also symbolizes the plight of a homeless wanderer drifting through the bottom of colonial society. We must pay close attention to the audacity and leisure of life that allows them to call this yeoinshuk a hotel.
Throughout the entire work, not only does the concrete life of those at the bottom of colonial society in the late 1930s feel tangibly real, but it feels as if the vivid voices of those crying out on the wind-chilled night streets can be heard directly. Where else could there be a song or a literary work that captures the typical customs of that era and social environment more realistically than this? The true value of this work is confirmed precisely in this regard. Kim Yong-hwan easily and masterfully delivered the entirety of both the singing and the spoken dialogue of this song with his own unique and unparalleled talent."
I couldn't possibly find a more beautiful way to wrap up the pre-World War
II history of
manyo songs. As I
previously mentioned, by the 1940s, there was simply no room left for the
genre’s lightheartedness. Even after liberation, their story did not
continue uninterrupted; history would have it that people had to wait a long
time before one of those peculiar
manyo-esque laughs
could ring out once again. Truth be told, I didn't actually intend to share
this final video for the song itself, as everyone is familiar with George W.
Johnson’s
The Laughing Song.
The Koreans made a
manyo of their own
out of it, keeping the music but writing new lyrics. But even that isn't
what matters—it's the laugh. Specifically, Seo Young-chun's laugh from 1964,
which is so utterly magnificent that you just can't help... but laugh
along.
→ To the 8th part
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